


Oh, Glory

by chzo_mythos



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Glory Hole, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chzo_mythos/pseuds/chzo_mythos





	Oh, Glory

Gerard’s never really been one to go to shows. Don’t get him wrong, he loves music, breathes it, but the whole interacting with people thing is not something Gerard is comfortable with. Fuck, it took him three years of knowing Ray before Gerard ever invited him over. 

But Gerard also pretty much fails at denying Mikey anything, so when his little brother practically skips down the stairs to the basement and looks at Gerard with a loving smile on his face Gerard immediately sighs.

“What do you want, Mikey?”

Mikey’s smile doesn’t falter, if anything it grows at the realization of exactly how well Gerard knows him.

“Well, my dear brother…” Mikey says, plopping down next to Gerard on his bed, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders, smile still on his face.

“Frank’s band it playing at The Retro Doxy tonight…”

Gerard sighs again.

“And? Do you, like, need ticket money or something? Because, yeah, I have it, but you got paid fucking yesterday, and if you already—”

“No, nothing like that, Frank put me on a guest list.”

“Oh.” Gerard says, a little surprised. He had no idea Frank’s band had the ability to have a guest list.

“So, what is it?”

Mikey bites his lip a little and shrugs his shoulders.

“Frank put me…plus one on the list. And I thought…”

“No.” Gerard says simply, crossing his arms and looking away quickly, before he gets drawn in by Mikey’s puppy dog eyes and pout.

“But, just…please Gee? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“What about Frank?”

Mikey scoffs, annoyed.

“When he’s not playing he’ll be getting drunk with his stupid girlfriend.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, even though he knows Mikey is right.

“Well, what about Ray?”

Mikey sighs.

“You know as well as I do that Ray isn’t in town this weekend. Come on, Gee. Is it that bad spending time with me?”

And there it is, Mikey’s playing the fucking little brother card, the one that will basically get Gerard to do anything. It’s not even in the words he says, just the way he says them, indicating you’re little brother needs you, that fucking asshole. Gerard sighs deeply and clenches his eyes shut, balling his fists in against his thigh.

“Here are my terms.”

Mikey smiles even wider.

“You’re the designated driver, you don’t make me talk to anyone else, and you don’t make fun of me tomorrow for anything I do, drunk or otherwise.”

Mikey leans in and kisses his brother’s cheek in that overdramatic, very wet way Mikey always does when Gerard gives him what he wants.

“Deal! See you tonight at eight.” Mikey says, and gets up swiftly, leaving Gerard alone again. 

Gerard wipes Mikey’s saliva off his cheek and fells back lazily on his bed and glances at the clock. Only 4:39. Fuck. He just wants to get it over with. 

\---

Mikey knocks on his door at 8pm sharp and Gerard sighs before opening it. Mikey’s still smiling as he grabs onto Gerard’s sleeve, pulling him into the living room and out to the car. As soon as Mikey backs out of the driveway, Gerard wants to bolt. He fucking hates other people, and right now he kind of fucking hates Mikey. He leans back in his seat and puts his foot on the dashboard, folding himself as best he can. Mikey scoffs from beside him, hands probably a little too lax on the steering wheel. 

“It won’t be that bad, Gee. Besides, you promised”

Gerard mumbles something affirmative into his kneecap. Mikey sighs and moves one of his hands to Gerard’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll be there.”

Gerard pushes back the thought of ‘I’m doing this because of you, idiot’ when Mikey pulls to the curb and shuts the engine off. They’re already there. Fuck. Gerard unfolds himself and gets out of the car, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in the front pocket of his jeans almost immediately. He leans against the car and lights it, only taking a few drags before Mikey walks to his side of the car and steals it from him. Gerard can’t help but look at Mikey’s mouth when he smokes; it looks. Different than the way he does it, than the way Gerard has seen smoke. Just. Smoother, easier. Gerard manages to get one last drag before stamping his cigarette out against the pavement. 

“Alright.” He says, calmer than before, “let’s do it.”

Mikey smiles and ushers Gerard to the door of the club, height working to his advantage when the bouncer barely looks at his fake ID before waving him in. 

Gerard goes to the bar first thing when he’s inside, ordering a shot of straight vodka and downing it in a second. Mikey strides over to him and puts and arm around his waist, moving him into the crowd as the opening band’s first song starts. They’re called Violent Sage (or is it Violet Rage? The singer’s accent is so thick with Jersey, even Gerard can’t understand it), and Gerard has never heard of them, but Mikey bops his head and moves his hips on the right beats, so Gerard is pretty sure he has. The singer is a tall skinny dude in leather pants and no shirt. Even in the first song he pulls out every trick, spinning and pumping his fist, and dragging his hand down his chest to the hem of his jeans, stretching the note he’s singing into a filthy moan. 

It goes on like this for the next 20 minutes or so, and Gerard hasn’t actually looked at anyone but the singer the whole time, though he knows Mikey has disappeared somewhere because there isn’t a hand on his hip anymore. The singer is practically fucking the crowd, and Gerard hardens with every sexual motion or obscene moan. It isn’t too long after they finish playing that Gerard finds himself in a stall in the men’s room, unzipping his jeans, thinking briefly that he’ll be able to catch Pencey’s first song if he hurries. He’s got his hand wrapped around the base of his dick before he notices that there is a hole in the wall to his left. It crotch level, and Gerard knows that its use is, though he’s never used a glory hole, or known anyone who has (to his knowledge at least, Frank is a freaky motherfucker). It’s also then he realizes that someone has stepped into the stall.

Gerard isn’t really sure what it means when the guy in the other stall puts two of his fingers through the hole, but he’s pretty sure he understand when his mouth is pressed against it, tongue visible. Gerard swallows hard and looks around, as if someone would be watching him (God, maybe, but Gerard’s known he’s going to hell since the 7th grade). He steps closer, takes a shaky breath, and puts his dick trough the hole, immediately engulfed in the stranger’s warm mouth. The guy bobs his head almost instantly, expertly, and Gerard has a passing though of how often this guy’s done this. He’s not used to not being able to see the face of the person blowing him, but it’s oddly hot, especially when the guy sinks down as far as he can, and Gerard fucking feels it when he groans when his lips hit the wall, like he wants more, like the one inch thick wall is a gate keeping him away from Heaven. 

Gerard hasn’t been blown in forever, and this guy is fucking talented, so he’s pretty sure it’s okay that he’s almost done within maybe two minutes. He isn’t sure how to signal that he’s close, but when he moans and his hips stutter, the guy seems to get it, pulling off and jerking him until he cums with an embarrassingly high gasp. He slumps forward and leans his head on the wall, panting as he hears his jizz drip onto the tile floor. He feels the other boy wipe him clean with toilet papers and wants to say thank you, but he can’t really find his voice, add to that the fact that he has no idea if he’s even supposed to.

Instead, he moves back and tucks himself back in his jeans, and gives the guy a thumbs-up through the hole. The guy laughs a little, but Gerard can barely hear it over the first chord of Attention Reader. 

Gerard is pretty unaware of post-glory hole etiquette, so he can’t really be blamed when he steps out of the stall the same time the other boy does. Gerard glances at the ground and bites his lip before looking up at the face of his…partner. All the color rushes from Gerard’s face and he feels like he’s going to vomit.

“Mi…Mikey?”

Mikey swallows hard, eyes wide.

“Y-yeah?”

There’s a long period of silence after that. Gerard suppresses his gag reflex (and also tries to clear his mind of the way his little brother’s mouth was just on his dick, holy fuck, and of how he kind of liked it a whole lot), and Mikey shifts his weight from side to side nervously.

“Do…do you do that at every show you go to?” Gerard says after a time, not really wanting to know, but needing to say…something.

“No” Mikey blushes, “I…you…just you. I. I recognized your shoes…they still have paint on them.”

Gerard actually dry heaves a bit, more at the thought of how it doesn’t disgust him that his brother wanted to suck him off. He’s disgusted with himself for not being disgusted, just. Seriously? Fuck his life.

He swallows dryly and wipes his sweaty palms against his thighs. 

“Let’s. Let’s, um.” He swallows thickly again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“Pencey’s on. Let’s go.” He says, turning towards the door.

“Gerard, wait. We can—”

But Gerard is already gone. 

\---

They don’t talk at all after that, even though Gerard gets fucking hammered, he still doesn’t say anything to Mikey, even pointing to the door when he wants to leave. Even when Mikey helps Gerard into his bed, Gerard still doesn’t say anything. Mikey sighs and leaves him a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. He also grabs a scrap of paper from Gerard’s desk and scribbles on it with a watercolor pencil he finds, red like Gerard’s bloodshot eyes. ’I love you. I’m sorry’.

\---

Gerard doesn’t remember any of his dreams that night, if he even has any. All he knows when he wakes up that next morning is that a) he has one hell of a hangover, and b) Mikey blew him last night. Through a fucking glory hole, he adds in his mind. So it’s not his fault (though, he did like it, so). He sees the note on his nightstand and immediately knows it’s from Mikey. As soon as he reads it he feels sick to his stomach and bolts for the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and emptying the contents of his stomach into the bowl.

When he’s done he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and washes his hands in the sink. He stares at himself in the mirror afterwards. He looks fucking wrecked; it’s all over his face. His eyes are still a little bloodshot and he has heavy bags. There is blood near the left side of his bottom lip, but he can’t find a wound. He washes it off and splashes water on his face. The cold of it gives him a sudden headache and he stumbles back to his room and takes some aspirin. 

He stares at the note for a while, unsure what to do with it. Throwing it away seems like he’d be throwing a part of Mikey away, but he doesn’t want to be reminded of the fact that his littler brother got him off. 

Ultimately, he shoves in into the top drawer of his bedside table, under an assortment of notebooks, cigarettes, and condoms. It seems appropriate. 

Gerard doesn’t leave his room all day, well, once, to piss, but. Other than that, he’s stayed mostly in bed, alternating between staring at the ceiling and an uncomfortable light sleep. His headache is mostly gone, and he’s basically refrained from thinking about. That. So when Mikey knocks on his door that night at dinner, Gerard is probably calmer than he should be.

“Hey, Gee. I, uh. I ordered pizza. And it’s, you know. Here.” Gerard mumbles something like ‘m’kay’ before slowly getting up and moving past Mikey, careful not to brush against him.

\---

Safe to say, his dinner with Mikey is the most awkward one Gerard has ever had; and he’s had plenty of awkward dinners in his life (coming out to his whole family at their reunion dinner by bringing his boyfriend who decided it would be the perfect day to wear his leather pants and fuzzy pink handcuffs? Yeah, Gerard knows awkward dinners). 

There’s this fucking elephant in the room, but neither says anything about it, even though Gerard knows Mikey wants to. 

Finally, after the longest awkward silence in either of their lives, Mikey sets down his half eaten slice of pizza and shuts his eyes behind his glasses, sighing through his nose.

“We have to talk about it at some point.”

Gerard ‘mm’s into his glass as he takes a large drink of his soda. He really doesn’t want to. Mikey seems to know but doesn’t seem to care when he opens his eyes and they bore into Gerard’s.

“I blew you last night.”

“I didn’t know it was you!” Gerard says, and even as the words leave his mouth, he knows he sounds defensive. Too defensive. 

“But you liked it.” Mikey says, eyebrow quirked.

Gerard’s face feels hot and he can taste bile in the back of his throat.

“Yeah, but—” He cuts himself off, not knowing what to say. 

Mikey stands and walks around the table to Gerard, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing slightly.

“It’s okay.” He says, walking out of the room, leaving Gerard alone with his thoughts. 

Gerard swallows hard and clenches his eyes shut briefly before standing and walking to the freezer and pulling out the vodka from behind the bag of frozen peas (his parents think they’re hiding it well; Gerard’s known where all the alcohol is since he was 13). It’s not okay, it’s fucking not. It’s Mikey, his little fucking brother. Gerard grabs a shot glass out of the cabinet above the stove, and sits back down, pouring himself a glass and downing it almost immediately. 

\---

When Gerard wakes up he’s in bed, and he quickly figures out that Mikey put him there, being that, you know, Mikey is in bed with him. Which isn’t really that weird, but in light of recent events, Gerard ignores his hangover and sits straight up, scooting as far away from Mikey as possible, head throbbing. He massages his temples for a moment before casting his eyes back down to his brother. Mikey’s cute, he always has been and Gerard’s never really denied that, but. But now Gerard notices something attractive in Mikey’s face, in his thick eyelashes, flush against his cheek, in the hard lines of his jaw. In his slightly parted lips, mumbling nonsense into Gerard’s pillow. Gerard rubs his hands over his face and sighs into his palm. Mikey is wrong, it’s not okay. But. 

But that doesn’t mean he wants it any less. Gerard takes a deep breath and lies back down next to Mikey, instantly feeling a thin arm sneak under his and Mikey’s hand splayed on his back, pulling him closer. Gerard lets him.

“tol’ you…” Mikey mumbles against Gerard’s shirt. 

Gerard chuckles lightly and sets a tentative hand on Mikey’s hip and waits. When nothing happens (when God doesn’t strike him dead), he makes his grip a firmer one. Mikey mewls and arches into it. And, yeah. It’s not okay. But Gerard’s not too sure he cares, especially not when Mikey’s hips feel so fucking good in his hands and Mikey’s stoking up and down his back. They’ll have to talk about it later and, honestly, Gerard isn’t looking forward to it, but right now he’s okay with going back to sleep, with his little brother wrapped in his arms.


End file.
